


Night, Death and the Devil

by kirakirababy



Category: the GazettE
Genre: Dark, Drabble, Emotional Sex, Gay, Gay Sex, M/M, Poetic, Religious Imagery & Symbolism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-16
Updated: 2015-08-16
Packaged: 2018-04-14 22:40:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4582818
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirakirababy/pseuds/kirakirababy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You, me, and the Devil makes three.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night, Death and the Devil

I lay my body softly on your alter.  
Quietly.  
Forgive.  
My skin peeled easily off the outraged bones  
that chafed in the flesh.  
Ripped away until I became a contorted,  
bloody skeleton free of the confines of tattered skin and shredded muscle.  
Reduced to nothing.  
A ghost for a trembling body.  
I begged for the air in the room to consume me.  
Forgive me father.  
Each strangled groan was too caught up in the silk of your sheets  
and the violent,  
seventh-seal-silence  
for anyone to hear  
the whispered words  
between the hammering of our hearts,  
“are you the Devil?”  
And, in the dark, you swore to me that you could walk on water  
if only it were cold enough.  
  
You, me and the Devil makes three.  
  
My pulse pressed against a forked tongue and sweat that stung like blood.  
The rattling of our straining lungs  
like the low, keening whine of a distant train.  
Lead me.  
You murmured against the open palm of my hand that  
“you fuck as good as you fight.”  
And I shut my eyes and bit my lip when  
Lead me not.  
muscles straining  
shaking  
limbs locking  
pulling  
you mouthed soft words of devotion into the hollow space beneath my heart  
and cracked my bones  
and plate armor like candy between snarling teeth.  
I began to laugh when the hounds snapping at our ankles  
starting chewing on the shadows in your eyes.  
And, in the light, you swore to me you could feed 5000 men  
if only you could charge it.  
Into temptation.  
  
Death slack-jaw smiled as he waved an hourglass  
and five bony fingers at  
the dripping remnants of our sinners dialogue and  
the thin-skinned portrait of a famished masculinity  
lying still and breathless among the piercing spines of  
star thistles and foxtails.  
Pray for us sinners.  
The place on your bed where my body decayed,  
left an ugly, outlined stain  
on our memory.  
Now and at the hour of our death.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted at:  
> http://sciencesaves.livejournal.com/29640.html


End file.
